


Dwarrow Bedding

by Miscellaneous_Subtext



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Beds, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miscellaneous_Subtext/pseuds/Miscellaneous_Subtext
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo is exhausted and dwarrows have wonderful beds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame antisafic's post on tumblr: http://antisafic.tumblr.com/post/73899334225
> 
> #my headcannon on what dwarf beds look like #but with stone (via antisafic)
> 
> Also I wanted to try using 'dwarrows', so correct me if I'm doing it wrong...

His eyes are heavy, too heavy for him to keep open anymore. Bilbo had promised not to wonder off, but he needs to lie down, he just needs to rest on something that isn't hard stone or cold gems. Thorin and the company are still searching through the treasure looking for the Arkenstone that Bilbo already has, tucked deep into the inside of his coat. He'll get to it eventually, he'll tell Thorin about the stone soon, maybe tomorrow after he's had a bit of rest. 

Bilbo thinks he remembers seeing rooms around here somewhere and he's really too tired to worry about getting lost. He turns a corner and pushes open the first door on his right, and there it is. The room dark, but Bilbo can see the outline of furniture, heavy stone tables and chairs, all finely crafted. But that isn't what he's interested in. What he's interested in lies tucked away in a nook in the wall. Dwarrow's tend to build their beds into the very rock, dark little alcoves that secretly Bilbo approves of. This one is quite nice, he can't tell what colour the curtains are in the dim light, but it doesn't matter. There are blankets, a mattress and even a few pillows. There all a little thread-bear and worn, smelling of dust and dragon and fire, but it's the best thing Bilbo has seen in ages. He crawls up onto, it’s a little higher than he’s used to, but it’s better than the beds designed for men and elves. Bilbo crawls right to the back, grabbing the pillows and tucking them around him. It’s cold here, but considering the amount of rock rising above them, Bilbo isn’t really surprised. He pulls a blanket up over his shoulders and closes his eyes. It’s quiet here, no insects or birds or bats, not yet at least. Bilbo imagines that soon, now that the dragon is gone, that the animals will return. Bilbo can imagine Thorin chasing pigeons off his throne and out of his forge, it makes him smile and he falls asleep just like that.

***

It probably takes longer than it should for Thorin to notice that his hobbit has gone missing. He feels a twinge of worry for the hobbit. Bilbo had promised not to wander off, but he seems to have done it anyway. Thorin sighs; sometimes he isn’t sure how Bilbo survived this long. 

“Company!” He calls and the older dwarrow’s stop what they’re doing and come to join him. “It’s time for rest, we can continue in the morning.” Maybe its better this way, there’s no point in searching in the dark and every single one of them is tired and road-weary. Rest will do them all good. “Find somewhere to rest and I will see you all in the morning.” Thorin can see how they all relax, the tension leaving their shoulders and he’s suddenly glad for Bilbo disappearance. He has been a poor leader over the last few weeks; he has been too occupied with reaching their destination and less worried for the comfort and safety of his companions. The gold all around them calls to him, but the worry for his hobbit calls louder. Bilbo had looked a little worse for wear the last time Thorin had seen him, stumbling about bleary eyed and clumsy. Thorin isn’t sure what direction the hobbit would have gone in, but he wouldn’t have gone far and there is only one thing that his road-weary hobbit would go looking for. 

It takes a while to find the right room, Thorin follows the small footprints in the dust as often as he can, but he knows it’s the right one because of the soft snoring coming from the alcove in the corner. Bilbo’s snoring is nothing in comparison to that of the dwarrows, it’s soft and quiet, more like very deep breathing than snoring. But Thorin has become accustom to the sound, he finds it soothing to know that his hobbit is alive and well and sleeping peacefully. As Thorin approaches he can see the small bundle in the corner, the blanket rising and falling slowly. Thorin wrinkles his nose at the smell, but it can’t be helped. He shrugs out of his coat and kicks off his boot, unbuckling his weapons and sets them all aside on a chair. He has nothing to fear here, this is his home, and for the moment it is safe. He climbs onto the bed, untucking the blankets from Bilbo’s shoulders. Bilbo stirs a little, mumbles something under his breath, but doesn’t wake. Thorin shifts him so that they can lay side by side, Bilbo’s back pressed against the wall and Thorin’s back facing the rest of the room. Thorin pulls the blanket up around them both and rests his head on the pillow besides Bilbo’s. He closes his eyes and breaths out long and slow. They are safe here, for now they are safe and warm and they can sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo wakes up feeling safe, safer even then he had when he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone kinda said that they wanted to see Bilbo waking up, so I wrote it.

Bilbo's body aches when he finally wakes, not that he wants to be awake at all. He's eyes are glued together with grit, but he doesn't want to move and he doesn't want to open them. The room is a little brighter, thanks to the mirrors the dwarrows employ to bring sunlight down into the mountain. Bilbo doesn't need to move to see the slight lightening. What does make him want to open his eyes is the sound of soft snoring beside him. He know's who it is, no one else flings their arm over Bilbo so possessively. His visions a bit blurry when he finally blinks he's eyes open, maybe it's because he's still so tired, Bilbo feels as if he could sleep for a month. 

Thorin is right there, Bilbo is snuggled into his chest and he's breathing is slow and even in sleep. It's not uncommon for Thorin to frown in his sleep, dreams and nightmares weighing him down. But he isn't frowning now, he looks so much younger with his face relaxed. There are still frown lines and wrinkles on his face, grey streaks in his hair, but the face underneath is younger. Bilbo wonders if this is the way Thorin looked before the dragon, before he was cast out of his home and sent to wander. Bilbo shifts, sitting up a little so he can stroke Thorin's hair back from his face. The dwarrow's hair is heavy, but soft despite the dirt Bilbo know's still coats it. Maybe one day soon they'll manage a decent bath, warm and scented and he and Thorin can spend hours cleaning each other. It would be nice to wash away the miles of dirt, to feel the journey slip away off their bodies. 

But now isn't the time for that.

Thorin groans a bit, snuffling a little into the pillow in a way Bilbo finds adorable even if he'll never tell Thorin. Thorin gropes out with his arm, trying to find Bilbo again. It takes a moment, but he finally open's his eyes, so incredible blue, to look up at the hobbit. 

"Sleep, my hobbit." Thorin says, voice rough with sleep. He wraps his arm around Bilbo's waist and pulls him down so they are pressed chest to chest. Thorin buries his face in Bilbo's hair and sighs out. "Bilbo." Then he's asleep again and Bilbo rolls his eyes. 

"Sleep well, love." Bilbo whispers in reply then closes his eyes and falls asleep surrounded by Thorin's warmth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second time Bilbo wakes up is not the same as the first.

Bilbo wakes slowly, his face is hot and he can’t seem to roll over. It makes his heart beat a bit faster, a rush of fear running through him. He opens his eyes and there’s Thorin, one of his large arms thrown over Bilbo’s waist. Bilbo wiggles, sliding down until he can slip under Thorin’s arm. He doesn’t get far though, one minute he has half crawled over Thorin and the next he’s sprawled on his back, looking up into a set of very blue eyes. 

“Wandering off again, burglar?” Thorin asks, a soft smile on his face. It’s feels like forever since Bilbo has seen that look on Thorin’s face. He’s been so distracted lately, and while Bilbo understands, he can’t help the small bubble of fear that’s stuck low in his belly. Thorin hasn’t been himself lately, so taken in by gold and paranoia. But this Thorin, this one that smiles at Bilbo, touches him gently and holds him close, this is the Thorin that Bilbo knows and loves.

“I was going to see what the others were doing.” Bilbo replies, sliding one hand across Thorin’s cheek, touching his lips and the soft smile there. 

“Without waking me?” Thorin doesn’t seem bothered, he nuzzles his face into Bilbo’s hand, circling Bilbo’s wrist with loose fingers. Bilbo licks him lips, even now, Thorin looks tired, there are bags beneath his eyes and even beneath the few layers he has on he still looks too thin. They all looked a bit worn, the whole company has seen too much and endured hardships that will leave lasting marks, but there is something dark lurking within Thorin. Bilbo isn’t sure if he can tell Thorin this, he feels like he should, but he’s frightened of the consequences. “What is it Bilbo?” Ah, Thorin has learnt to read Bilbo well, it’s a shame Bilbo isn’t as good at reading Thorin. 

“You…” Bilbo swallows, lets his hand drop down to the bed again. “You don’t sleep, Thorin. You barely eat…” Bilbo feels his eyes prick, the tears he’s been fighting rising to the surface. He wasn’t supposed to be afraid of Thorin, he never thought he’d be afraid of the man he’d fallen in love with. “I see you slip a little more each day.” Thorin’s frowning and Bilbo has to close his eyes, he doesn’t want to remember Thorin like this, he wants to remember the smiling Thorin, the Thorin that loves his nephews, and would do anything to save his people. “I feel as if you’re slipping away, losing you to a sickness that I know no cure for.” Bilbo covers his face with his hands, fearing his tears, fearing Thorin’s reaction. Thorin’s breathing is steady and hot against the backs of Bilbo’s hands, he feels like he’s burning, like he’s standing before the dragon all over again. Except that now that dragon has taken on Thorin’s form. 

“You fear me.” It’s not a question, Thorin’s voice is soft but it hurts Bilbo’s ears. The mattress shifts and the heat above Bilbo disappears. Bilbo makes himself sit up, makes himself look at the Thorin. The dwarf paces back and forth, shoulder’s tense and his hands clasped behind his back. Bilbo has seen this pose before, but it’s odd now, because Thorin is without his coat or his boots. He looks smaller now, lighter and freer in a way that Bilbo has hardly ever seen. When they’d slept on the road, Thorin has slept fully dressed with his sword beneath his hand, even when Bilbo was pressed against his chest. In taverns and inns Thorin slept bare of his boots and coat like now, but always with a weapon strapped to his waist and another under his pillow. Right now, he doesn’t even have that, his coat and armour are on the floor and even as he paces he doesn’t even approach the chair where his weapons lay. 

“Thorin?” Bilbo finally says when he can no longer stand Thorin’s silent pacing. It hurts too much, while Thorin doesn’t always speak, he is rarely this silent, Bilbo has often caught him singing or humming under his breath as he walks or works. Thorin stops, eyes catching on Bilbo. The change startles Bilbo and he freezes like a deer scenting a predator. And oh, how he hates the thought of Thorin as the predator, Thorin was only even supposed to be his protector. 

Thorin crosses the room, large strides eating up the distance between himself and the bed. Bilbo scrambles back instinctively, but Thorin catches him around the waist, drags him back to the edge, and then just as suddenly sinks to his knees. 

He buries his head in Bilbo’s lap, long hair fanned across Bilbo’s knees. The King Under the Mountain kneels on the floor, hands clutching at Bilbo’s waist, chest heaving with ragged breaths. 

“You fear me,” Thorin’s voice is muffled against Bilbo’s leg, but this close Bilbo can hear him. “I have made you fear me.” He sounds destroyed, like Bilbo has torn his heart from his chest and squashed it beneath his foot. “Forgive me.” Bilbo feels his tears run free and he lets them fall, watches them wet the heavy strands of Thorin’s hair. 

“Don’t leave me,” The words fall out of Bilbo’s mouth before he can stop them. Of all his fears, this is the worst. The idea that Thorin will one day cast him aside haunts Bilbo’s every moment, whether it be for gold or jewels or even someone else, Bilbo is haunted by the thought that one day Thorin will abandon him. Bilbo has been alone before, but he has also never loved liked this and he doesn’t know if he will survive if he loses it, if he loses Thorin. 

Thorin raises his head, looks at Bilbo with wide, intense blue eyes. 

“Never, love, never shall I leave you. Not until the day the earth reclaims us both, and not even then will I stop loving you.” Bilbo chokes, tears sticking in the back of his throat. He throws himself forward, letting Thorin gather him into his arms and Bilbo buries his face in Thorin’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to lose you, but you were slipping away. Please, Thorin, please.” Bilbo can’t help the words, can’t stop them flowing out of him now that the dam has been breached. 

“Hush love, I will not leave you. I will not lose myself.” Thorin kisses the top of Bilbo’s head, strokes down his back and just holds him. This is his fault, he’d let himself relax, let himself believe that they were home and he’d let down his guard. Thorin blames himself, he’d known about his grandfather’s sickness, know that the gold could drive him mad. He’d let it claim him, and he’d forgotten himself, worst of all he’d forgotten his people. He’d forgotten Bilbo, his love, his treasure, his brave and beautiful hobbit. “You don’t need to fear anymore.” And Thorin means it, he would throw the gold into the sea before he let it drag him any further into madness and any further away from Bilbo. 

Bilbo just clung tighter, hands fisted in Thorin’s tunic. He feared that if he let go Thorin would disappear, drift off to places where Bilbo could not go. Thorin shifted, gripping Bilbo tightly as he stood, moving them back onto the bed. He tucked them back into bed, wrapping the blankets around them both. 

“We will fight this Bilbo, I will see every coin traded for dirt before I allow myself to give you up. You are my greatest treasure, love.” Thorin tucked Bilbo beneath his chin, closing his eyes and he listened to Bilbo sob. He smoothed his hand down Bilbo’s spine, humming softly. “I am sorry, my love.” Bilbo looked up, surprised, Thorin rarely apologised and only when he truly meant it. 

“You don’t…” Bilbo wiped at his face roughly, “It’s not your fault, just please Thorin, don’t let this dragon sickness destroy you. You have come so far, and you are so loved, don’t let this be the end.” Bilbo cupped Thorin’s face, leaning in to kiss him softly. Thorin kissed back, hand sliding up to cup the back of Bilbo’s head and draw him closer. “Don’t leave me,” Bilbo murmured between them eyes closed as he breathed deeply, memorising Thorin’s smell and warmth. 

“Never,” Thorin kissed him again, parting Bilbo’s lips with a flick of his tongue. Bilbo moaned, opening to Thorin’s touch, tilting his head back and drawing Thorin deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to write one more part... there will be sex, (yay!)


End file.
